


Pine Fresh

by sulidaebae



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bubble Bath, F/F, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Multi, Partial Nudity, Pining, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-07-28 21:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20070607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sulidaebae/pseuds/sulidaebae
Summary: It's been a miserable winter so far. And while Harry knows he can handle worse things than freezing rain and cold muck on the Quidditch pitch, sometimes he just wants to soak in a bubble bath instead of showering in the changing rooms or the 8th year dorms.If someone would only give him the bloody password.





	1. Lemongrass

It was another one of those grey and windy evenings that meant that most of the population of Hogwarts was indoors, by a fireplace. For the 8th years, however, it meant that the Quidditch pitch was free and not in use by any teams or the first year classes. In the aftermath of the war the returning students of the final year were moved to a separate dorm to make space for the new first years that joined last years' to make the largest group of excited eleven year olds to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts. And the 8th years weren't that big of a group anyway, something that was difficult not to dwell on. Headmistress McGonagall made the executive decision of removing the concept of houses for the small group of her eldest students and provided a separate common room for them. The dorms in question were located at the site of what used to be (still was?) the Room of Requirement. On the first day back Harry found himself standing outside its doors after all of his classmates had disappeared inside. Or almost. Draco Malfoy stood a few feet away from him, blank faced, staring at the door that led to their new dorms. He looked unhealthily pale, but still heaps better than he did last time Harry saw him, right after the trials. Harry could guess that Draco's apprehension also came from their common memory of the Fiendfyre. Which is probably why he spoke up.

"I think uniting all houses this year was a good plan on McGonagall's part, but this doesn't seem as well thought out. Surprisingly."

Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Draco tense up when he started to talk. The blond glanced sideways at him, surprised and a little confused.

"I mean, I guess renovation efforts had to be focused from the heart of the castle and outwards, but there are many other towers or, uh, turrets that would have been a better choice." Harry continued.

The silence stretched on and Harry began to think that him talking was not as helpful as he had thought. After all, he and Draco were far from being friends. Yes, Narcissa had insisted on a lengthy conversation with him in the aftermath of the trials to thank him and to apologize in person, rather than in front of the Wizengamot. Then, most definitely on purpose, she left her son alone with him. Harry found himself thinking about the conversation he and Draco had had. 

_"I owe you, Potter. More than you might understand. And I apologize, to you and your friends and classmates. Not because my mother expects it. But because I truly need to do so."_

_"You don't owe me, Malfoy. You know what happened. Your mother saved me for your sake. And my life debt to her is settled." He had almost added that they could go back to being boring old rivals, but that didn't seem true._

_"This isn't about magic, Potter. It's not about life debts. It's..." Malfoy took a deep breath and finally looked directly at Harry "It's about starting over. Your word at the trials means more to the wizarding world than anything at the moment. You saved my mother and I from Azkaban. But you also saved me from becoming my father_ _."_

_And then he extended his trembling hand. And Harry shook it._

_"Thank you...Harry."  
_

_"You're welcome, Draco."_

"She probably thinks that we'll give the Room of Requirement its life back by using it in some way."

Draco's slightly hoarse voice startled Harry out of his thoughts. 

"Yeah, I reckon you're right. And two traumatized students is nothing new to Hogwarts anyway."

That made Draco snort, if not full out laugh. And then Harry felt ready to go inside.

"Shall we? I'd like to graduate this year at least." Draco asked as he placed a surprisingly steady hand on the door handle. Harry mirrored his movement and pushed the door open.

If reuniting all the 8th years into one house was accepted rather well, their ban from playing Quidditch was not. Now that caused an uproar. Which is why a small group of 8th years, dressed in outdated Quidditch robes found in the backs of the broom closets regularly invaded the Quidditch pitch after dark, in terrible weather or while skipping DADA classes. 

And so, on this grey and windy evening, Harry and other sports fans returned from a friendly game, muddy and sweaty but overall pleased with the time they got to spend on brooms and away from essays. He lounged across an entire couch in the common room, waiting for the showers to be free again after the first batch of players claimed them to get rid of all of the dirt and the threat of frostbite. His limbs were slowly defrosting but Harry was pretty sure the dirt and twigs in his hair had congealed into a proper bird's nest. So he took this time to try and convince Hannah or Dean, the 8th year prefects, that they should give him the password to the prefect baths.

"There are way too many of us here and not enough showers. And honestly, if anything we deserve a nice soak in water that smells like a bloody garden after a week stuck in the dungeons measuring out distilled leech juice."

"Harry, I understand and agree, but the Headmistress really looks down upon any preferential treatment given to the 8th years."

Dean nodded in support of Hannah's words and smiled apologetically at Harry.

"It would help if you didn't spill half the juice on your robes, mate."

Harry groaned and flopped back on the couch. A blond head appeared in his field of vision and Harry felt a few water drops land on his face.

"Are your friends still refusing to help you improve your hygiene?"

"Bugger off, Draco." Harry replied warmly. "And stop dripping all over me. Why the hell do you smell like a bakery?"

"Because unlike you, I managed to get the password to the prefects' bath. And they have a variety of dessert scented foams."

Harry's eyes went wide.

"You know the password?"

"I didn't notice you got hit by a bludger tonight. Yes, I know the password. And I might even tell you what it is."

"See! Draco is being nice, Dean. Why can't you do the same?"

Dean mumbled something that only Hannah heard. She flushed and tried to hide a laugh in the book she was reading. Harry's attention turned back to the blond hovering over him.

"Will you tell me if I promise not to ask help with potions homework again?"

Draco considered it and then shook his head, sending more droplets flying everywhere.

"No, I think it benefits everyone that I tutor you in potions. Less mishaps. I'll just tell you out of the goodness of my heart in the spirit of inter-house unity."

Hannah and Dean's giggling grew louder, only interrupted by the appearance of Dean's boyfriend who unceremoniously climbed into his lap and demanded a post-quidditch back rub.

"You, Hufflepuff, you. Any time now would be great."

Draco dramatically leaned over the back of the couch and the damp strands of his hair stuck to Harry's cheek as he whispered:

"Cymbopogon citratus."

"Cinna-what now?"

"It's a plant. And I'm not repeating it. Now please go and clean yourself before you turn the common room into a swamp."

With a final flick of his hair, Draco sauntered off towards the boys' dorms.


	2. Orange Blossoms

The hot bath was pure bliss. Harry was covered up to his chin in soft sweet smelling bubbles and foam and one of the bath oils he had poured in was soothing the bruises left on his skin from bumping into the opposing team's seeker. Who was, surprisingly, not Draco. He had actually switched positions to be a chaser. Harry's quip about Draco liking bigger balls had surprisingly not caused a fistfight and instead had set the mood for all of the following quidditch games during which all the players were trying to cram as many innuendos as possible into the half hour or so they spent in the air. Luna, keeping score of points, also kept score of the particularly witty remarks. Often enough the team that lost the game of the night would at least win in terms of sexualizing a bludger into actively avoiding hitting them.

Harry dried off, got dressed and set off towards the dorms. Now that he'd gotten to experience the prefect baths after a game he really didn't want to go back to the crammed dorm showers. Perhaps Draco's Hufflepuff side would make him more open to giving him the password again next week. 

When he pushed open the door to the dorms he was greeted by the sight of his two best friends bickering over a pile of parchment near the fireplace.

"...I did not give you all those reference books so you could just copy them word for word, Ronald!"

"Does it matter, Hermione? Binns has been reading the same essays about the same topic for hundreds of years. I doubt he'd notice."

"It's still plagiarism. That's _illegal_."

"So is making polyjuice and yet."

"I was twelve, Ron!

Harry grinned and leaped over the back of the couch to join them.

"Ah, the sweet sounds of young love. I take it Ron's essay on magical manuscript trade isn't up to your standards?"

"Hush, Harry. Don't get me started on the gibberish you've written in yours."

"Nevermind then. I'm off to bed."

Just as quickly as he'd settled on the couch, if not as smoothly, Harry climbed back over and headed towards the dorm room he shared with Neville. Right in front of the door he bumped into Draco, who was banging his fist on the neighboring door.

"Thomas, if you're locked in there doing inappropriate activities again I am getting the headmistress to remove this door altogether! I want my bed back!"

"By inappropriate activities do you mean he's snogging Seamus or do you mean redecorating the room in Gryffindor colors?" Harry inquired.

"They've been snogging all over the castle. If that bothered me I'd be on my way to France right now. No, he's been trying to bake. He made a miniature wood oven in transfiguration last week and ever since then he's been setting things on fire under the guise of making desserts for the 8th years."

"That sound like Seamus's influence has been rubbing off on him."

Draco threw his hands up and groaned, finally turning around to face him.

"We're off the quidditch pitch. You can stop with the innuendos now, Harry."

"Yeah, but we won today thanks to my observations on how you manhandle your broomstick. And how you are currently manhandling that door."

Draco's eyes narrowed and he jabbed his finger at Harry's collarbone.

"I am not about to take that kind of remark from someone who can't even clean himself up properly."

"Ow, stop poking me. What are you on about?"

"You have dirt on your neck. Right..." Draco poked his clavicle with his ridiculously pointy finger, punctuating every word. "...There. Figures Gryffindors can't even bathe themselves."

"I can...I am clean!" Harry protested, batting the other's hand away.

With a dismissive gesture Draco turned back towards his door. Harry rubbed at the now sore spot on his throat and pushed through to his dorm. Neville was perched on the windowsill, measuring the length of some plant with his wand and then scribbling furiously in a notebook. Every time he lifted his wand back to measure a stalk, the plant would attempt to swat at him.

"Hey Nev, how is your sapling doing?"

Neville grinned up at his dorm mate.

"Pretty great actually, it's getting quite violent."

As if to emphasize his words the small whomping willow swung again and almost caused its pot to topple off the windowsill. It was kind of cute, Harry thought, if one ignored the fact that once the tree matures it had the potential to maim and even kill any creature that approached it.

"Brilliant."

Harry threw his towel and dirty quidditch robes at the foot of his bed and went over to his dressing table. Sure enough, when he pulled his collar aside, there was a orange-ish mark the size of a thumbprint right in the spot where Draco had poked him. Harry licked his thumb and attempted to scrub the dirt off but after a few seconds all he had was a red patch of sore skin. The dirt didn't budge.

"Neville do you have anything I can use to get tree sap off of me? I have this mark that won't go away and I'm guessing it's not just mud."

"Sure, Harry. Let me just get you a cotton ball."

The liquid Neville poured on the cotton ball looked relatively harmless and Harry quickly dabbed it onto his collarbone. 

"So, uh, how quickly should this work?"

"Right away. Why?"

"Because it's still here, see?" Harry pointed at his neck.

Neville blinked at him, confused.

"Uh, there's nothing there, Harry."

But when Harry glanced back at his reflection the orange spot was more vivid than ever. And looking less like some dirt and more like a distinct shape.


	3. Eucalyptus

"Are you sure you see something there, Harry?"

"For the last time, yes 'Mione. It's there. It's orange. It's not going away."

In fact, in the half hour since the mark's discovery it had gotten even brighter, turning a pleasant peach shade against Harry's dark skin. Hermione looked very concerned, but Ron looked surprisingly thoughtful. As Hermione disappeared behind a stack of books (that she had pulled out of nowhere as soon as Harry's dirt mystery was discovered) Ron stood up and walked back and forth past Harry, mumbling to himself. Harry watched as Hermione flipped through book pages at an astounding speed that made him wonder how she managed to read any of the words on the pages. Every so often she would look up at her boyfriend, mildly annoyed at his pacing. Eventually when Ron's mumbling got louder she snapped.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Ron, what is it?"

"Well, it could be a soulmark."

When she didn't reply and just kept staring at him, Ron gestured vaguely at his own upper arm. At this, Hermione gasped and her books toppled off her table.

"Of course! That would explain why you're the only one who can see it Harry."

Even though he had no idea what she was on about Harry felt the need to correct her. "Well not the only one..."

Before he could go on, she had interrupted him.

"That's right. Your soul partner would also be able to see it."

"My what now?"

"The person who has a matching mark. Your soul partner."

"SOUP for short. It's not as rare as people think. Most witches and wizards have a couple people their magical compatibility is at its peak with and they can see who their match is based on a mark on their skin." Supplied Ginny, shoving her brother aside and throwing her legs unceremoniously over Harry's lap. "Has Harry found his SOUP? Is that why you're asking?"

Harry's brain short circuited. If only he and his soul partner person could see his mark that meant...

"Nope, I just took a bath, saw it, got confused as to why it wasn't coming off."

Ginny didn't seem convinced by his lie, but let it slide, which Harry was grateful for. He was grateful for Ginny in general. To how their relationship returned to friendship without even a hint of awkwardness. And for how no matter how horrifying the aftermath of the battle had been, he felt like a part of the Weasley family more than ever. Feisty sister included.

"Well, you should keep an eye out for whoever notices it. Wouldn't it be incredible if you found them soon?"

"But, what about you guys? Haven't you two..."

Now that the question had left his lips Harry realized how tactless it was. What if his friends weren't soul partners? What if they were just happily in love and didn't want to think about magical bonds?

He didn't have any reason to worry, however, judging by their faces.

"Actually..." Ron's face turned red. "We noticed it the day after my 18th birthday. That's when they're supposed to appear you know. They get more distinct once you notice them though some people don't see them for a while because of where they're located I guess..."

"If it's on your arse, I really don't want to hear about it." Ginny mumbled.

"It's on his shoulder. Near where he got splinched. Mine is on my forearm." Hermione was also blushing. And Harry couldn't stop himself for grinning.

"That's bloody great you two! Why didn't you tell me? Actually, why didn't you even tell me this was a thing? I would have been on the lookout for this orange blob from my birthday too."

"It wouldn't have helped, given your observation skills."

Harry shoved Ginny's legs off of his lap with mock outrage.

"I am plenty observant!"

"Right, you didn't realize your roommate was dating Hannah. You tried to third wheel on their date to Hogsmeade."

"To be fair I've been third wheeling these two for the past eight years."

Ron chucked a couch pillow at him. After that any serious conversation about the concept of soulmarks and soul partners was off the table. Harry was relieved. When Dean came downstairs with a tray of only slightly burnt muffins the common room looked like a battlefield of cushions and overturned chairs. Ginny promptly stole a muffin and ran off to the 7th year dorms to avoid any cleaning responsibilities. After rearranging the furniture back into place Harry headed back to his dorm room. As he lay in bed, he absentmindedly reached for the orange spot on his collarbone. What was he supposed to do with the knowledge that Draco Malfoy was probably his soul partner? Did he even mind?

"No, no probably not."

"Oi, Harry, shut it please." Came Neville's sleepy request when Harry accidentally voiced his thoughts out loud.

But Harry really didn't mind that idea. Even with the romantic connotations of this kind of bond. It actually felt kind of...right. Question was whether Draco felt the same.

"Can't exactly ask him, can I."

"Harry, I respect your introspective comments but I swear to Merlin that will strangle you."

"Sorry, Nev."


	4. Tea Tree

As much as Harry wanted to believe that it was his charm and good looks that got Draco to keep giving him the passwords to the prefect baths he figured it was probably due to the fact that out of the all the 8th year quidditch players he got the dirtiest at the end of each round. It wasn't his fault that most seekers he played against drew a line at plunging into a swamp for the sake of catching the snitch that hovered barely an inch away from its surface. Or that every so often Ron would get a letter from George requesting that he swap the bludgers for rotten pumpkins. However Harry still hadn't had the opportunity (or the guts, as Ginny would say) to ask Draco about the mark. Not that the blond had mentioned it either. He probably just thought that Harry really was that bad at washing himself, which didn't bode well for Harry's growing interest in Draco. Unless Draco was into muddy men. Or men at all.

"Harry, you're doing that thing again where you stare at Malfoy without blinking instead of eating."

Hermione's reproachful whisper finally made Harry look away. There was no distinct 8th year table and he was sitting with Hermione and Luna with a bunch Ravenclaws that the latter was helping with deciphering the Quibbler's version of horoscopes. Trelawney would have been appalled. Draco was sitting by himself at the end of a Hufflepuff table, fork in one hand and his nose buried in a book. When Harry chanced a glance back their eyes met and Draco mouthed _what _at him. So Harry took this opportunity to walk over and ask for the prefect baths password of the week. It seemed like a good enough excuse.

"You haven't even played yet." Draco pointed out.

"Yeah, but does it matter? Everyone knows I'll end up in three different kinds of muck and I'll need the password anyway. It's better if you give it to me now so I can get clean right after."

Draco shrugged and beckoned Harry to lean forward. For the past few weeks, every time he'd whispered the password in his ear Harry had felt his skin warm up. It was a very welcome feeling after freezing out on the pitch. It was also very nice to smell Draco's hair up close. It somehow always smelled of cake. Even now.

"Melaleuca alternifolia." Draco whispered, tilting his head so he was just a breath away from Harry's skin.

"Oh, I know that one!"

Harry was rewarded with one of Draco's disappointed looks.

"I sure hope you do. I just helped you with your potions essay on Australian magical plants. That was two days ago, Harry."

"My bad, I was distracted by your dazzling smile."

"Very sweet, I'd be inclined to believe you if I had any reason to smile while tutoring you instead of wanting to rip my hair out." 

Harry shrugged. He had long given up on his plan to become an Auror and was basically still taking potions because he didn't feel like announcing to the world about his change of plans. At least not yet. Neville was the only one who knew so far. 

"See you on the pitch, then."

"Try not to crash into the greenhouses this time."

Harry didn't crash into the greenhouses. He did, however land on his arse more than once and as he slipped into the warm bathwater it stung a bit. More than a bit. Harry hissed and gingerly brushed his hand over his scraped skin. Maybe a visit to the infirmary after he got clean wouldn't be a bad idea. He was analyzing the various prefects bath taps to see if anything could lessen the ache when the door creaked open. Harry immediately ducked so that only his head was visible above the foam.

"You have got to be kidding me. You've been in here for half an hour already."

Draco paused at the edge of the giant tub, his towel slung over his shoulder. He was still covered in dirt, though significantly less so than Harry had been.

"This is why I don't give you the password before the game. So you don't hog the bath for the rest of the evening."

"Hey, this is the first time I've been here so long. I'm trying to figure out if any of these can help with the pain in my arse. On my arse. I bruised my bum."

The more he talked the more Harry realized that he was digging himself into a hole. Draco's smirk got wider and wider.

"I saw you fall off your broom and onto the stands twice. I figured you were sore from that and not the vigorous shagging you'd been getting from Longbottom. Seeing as he's very taken and very heterosexual."

"Shut up. Are you getting in the bath or not?"

Now this really did make Draco stop talking. 

"I don't exactly bathe in my swimsuit, you know."

"And? No one is when we're in the changing room showers. How is this any different?"

Harry had no idea what had made him so bold out of a sudden. And he knew quite well what the difference was. The difference was that a group of tired and rowdy teammates all piling into the showers together was not exactly the same as taking a bubble bath with the bloke he was very much attracted to. Draco looked just as surprised as Harry felt after practically suggesting that they bathe together. Finally he shrugged, turned around so he was facing away from Harry and began to peel off his clothes. Harry knew he should be polite and look away. But if Draco was his soul partner then he also had to have a mark. And in the few minutes it took Draco to remove his quidditch gear Harry had scanned every inch of his pale skin, trying not to focus too much on Draco's backside. Draco's ears and the back of his neck were practically crimson with embarrassment or something else that Harry didn't really understand. There was no sign of mark anywhere that Harry could see and he tried not to feel disappointed. Draco slipped into the bath, still facing away from him and swam towards the taps. He squinted at a few of them before turning on a copper one with a green handle.

"It should help with your ah, arse situation." He explained, smirking once again. Harry halfheartedly splashed him with some foam.

"If you knew how much it stung you wouldn't joke about it. I just really don't feel like having Pomfrey examine me."

"Not a fan of Poppy's talented hands, are you?"

"Not my type."

Silence settled over the bathroom only punctuated by the steady dripping from a few of the taps. Harry kept trying to look anywhere but Draco, now that they were both in the water and he couldn't even see any part of his body below his shoulders. He doubted he would ever find out if they had matching marks. Draco seemed to feel the awkwardness as well as he kept his gaze locked on the mermaid mural. Finally he looked back at Harry. And snorted.

"You know, I was mostly joking when I said Gryffindors had bad hygiene. But apparently I wasn't far off from the truth."

Harry glanced down at the mark on his chest. Through the foam it was barely a smudge of orange, but from hours of staring at himself in the mirror he knew what it looked like and what it was supposed to be.

"It's not dirt."

"Oh, a very persistent hickey then? Should I take back what I said about Longbottom?"

Harry looked directly at Draco. Even though he was clearly trying to tease him, he didn't seem that pleased with his joke. So Harry decided to just rip off the band aid.

"It's my soulmark. Actually."


	5. Rosewater

"You. How long have you..." 

Draco seemed to be on the verge of panic. Harry considered swimming over to calm him down but seeing as they were both completely naked it was probably a bad idea.

"Since you pointed it out last month. I didn't even know what it was until people said they couldn't see it."

"And you didn't say anything? Of course you didn't say anything. Oh gods. Just. I'm going to attempt to drown myself in this bubble bath if you don't mind."

"Draco. Draco stop. I do mind. Would you just look at me?"

Harry patiently waited. Finally Draco looked up, his grey eyes wide and his face tense.

"Thank you. Before you start inventing reasons why I didn't mention it and blaming it on my affair with Neville maybe give me a chance to explain? I didn't know what soulmarks were. But I'm not surprised or disappointed that my soul partner is not a girl. And I'm not surprised or disappointed that it's...you. Okay, maybe a little surprised seeing as I've had this since July but we only really became closer in the fall. But I'm not disappointed. At all. It's quite the opposite actually."

"What are you saying? That you're glad that you're magically bound to me? Please, Harry, there's no need to pity me. It's quite offensive." 

"Are you ignoring what I'm trying to say on purpose?"

"Yes! Because you can't _like_ me. You can't _want to be with me_."

"Uh, yes I can."

It wasn't the most articulate way of telling Draco that he fancied him. Or the best place to do so. But he never did pick the best places or moments to confess his feelings. So Harry slowly swam over and planted himself firmly in front of the other man, a few feet away still very much aware of the fact that they were completely naked.

"Can I please see yours?"

"My what?" Draco squeaked, from behind his hands that he used to hide his reddening face.

"Your dick. What do you think? Your mark you idiot."

Draco swatted at Harry's shoulder. 

"This is not romantic at all. I didn't even...If I had known that the person I liked was my soul partner I would have done something."

"Yeah, I know. Ron told me these things are usually a lot fancier. Practically marriage proposals. This isn't so bad though."

"But this isn't exactly fair. You knew I was your soul partner. And you got me naked and cornered in the bath."

"I didn't _get_ you naked. I suggested and you decided to strip."

"Because you were already..." Draco glared at him, but even his attempt at looking angry failed. Harry sighed and took a step away. 

"I promise I didn't expect you to come into the bath with me. I didn't plan this. I understand if you don't want to be with me. Just because I've had time to think about what it would be like to...date you doesn't mean you also have. And you have other soul partners out there, just statistically speaking. We can go back to just being mates."

"You think I don't want to date you? Harry are you blind?"

"Wh..."

Harry's question was interrupted by Draco's lips on his. The kiss was soft and brief and slightly soapy. But still the best thing he'd felt in ages. Draco pulled away, his face flushed and his hair sticking up from where Harry's fingers had reached into it to pull him closer. 

"Fine. We should date. But we should also not talk about this here. I'm getting pruney. Off you go."

Having Draco go back to his usual bossy self to mask his embarrassment was surprisingly endearing. Harry nodded, still grinning from the kiss, and swam over to the edge of the bath.

"Since I got a very nice view of your arse earlier I feel like I should return the favor. Just so we're even, you know."

He did his best to look seductive as he got out of the bath. It was quite difficult to do because the tiled floor was slippery and he tried not to flash all of his bits at Draco while he was at it. Even though in his opinion he failed miserably at coming even close to how good Draco looked earlier, the latter still seemed appreciative.

"Hmm. That'll do. I can definitely see your arse bruise though."

"Shut up. See if I ever get naked around you again."

"You know you will!" Draco called after him as Harry headed over to his pile of clean clothes and started to dry off. After pulling on his trousers he turned around just as Draco was finishing toweling his hair, still shirtless. Harry bundled up his dirty clothes and walked over. Draco turned around, one hand covering his chest.

"So, since you asked so nicely earlier, here it is."

He moved his fingers aside to display a matching orange mark on his chest amid a fine web of scars. Harry looked down at his own soul mark and back at his soul partner's.

"Do you know what it's of?"

To his surprise Draco shook his head. Harry mentally thanked Neville for his patience when Harry attempted to describe the mark to him. And his very useful input on what it sounded like.

"It's a calla lily. They're supposed to symbolise new beginnings, gratitude and..." Harry nervously licked his lips, "and marriage."

Although Draco tried to hide how pleased he was under another smirk Harry could see right through him.

"Eager, aren't you?"

Instead of answering Harry just pulled him in for another kiss. And he would have kept kissing him if it weren't for the banging on the door leading to the baths. And then a familiar voice called out.

"Are you done? Can I use the bloody baths yet Malfoy?'

Draco rolled his eyes as Harry stared at him.

"Dean? Dean's been giving you the password? That sneaky little..."

He was interrupted by more kissing. And didn't really object.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering Draco had been using treacle tart scented foam the entire time because he figured Harry would like it.
> 
> Dean gave Draco the password to make up for using their room for cooking experiments and then kept giving it to him just to mess with Harry.
> 
> Most soul marks are plant and herb themed. 
> 
> Luna has two. 
> 
> For the longest time Seamus and Dean didn't know they were soul partners because Seamus's mark was on his scalp. Only when he once again singed it off could Dean see it. Joyful screaming happened.


End file.
